Drawing Circles In The Night
by Feelin Glayish
Summary: Russia and America get paired up to complete an assignment in their science class. Gakuen!America/Russia. Kink meme fill.
1. Chapter 1

**Drawing Circles In The Night**

**Chapter One**

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* * *

**

"Today we will be discussing your final project of the term."

The words were like a breath of fresh air. America inhaled deeply and exhaled with a satisfied smile stretched widely across his face. He sighed and rested his head on the palm of his hand. His professor was a Random Boring Citizen, like all the professors at the school, but he didn't care.

Science class was definitely one of his favourite classes at the World Academy. It was, like mathematics, one of the only classes mostly any country could take. That meant he could see a lot of different faces compared to the regular crew in the North America class section. Except Canada's face looked just like his only more boring so that only left _Cuba_ as someone interesting, the Caribbean countries, and… Mexico, whose face no one had actually seen since he (or she?) never came out of the dorms.

America broke open his snack pack and pulled out a fantastically nuclear orange bag of cheetos. The fresh faux food smell was intoxicating and he sighed even deeper. The Science Dude professor droned on an on, taking attendance.

Even the living quarters were laid out by continental class. Since North America wasn't made up of as many countries as say, Europe, most of the time they got smushed together with South America. But like most split classes, there was a fine line that separated them all. Maybe that was called the equator.

Science class was definitely different. Better. Here, most of the world showed up, and the final project meant that the school year was almost over! And then… America drooled.

_Freedom._

He popped a few cheetos into his mouth.

* * *

There was something poking him in the ass. America whipped his orange-flavour covered hand at the offending pen, which belonged to a certain European country named… France.

"Quit it!" America tossed an orange puff over his shoulder.

"Only if you lay down," France whispered. The French speaking nation was the Vice President of the student council and put almost all of his time into seeing to the… student body.

France's fine eyebrows were raised and he smirked. It wasn't _that_ hard for America to get what the country of love was insinuating. He didn't really feel like bothering with that sort of gayness so early in the morning though.

"A simple 'down in front' could have worked too, y'know!" He answered, tugging in his chair so that he wouldn't get it in the butt again.

"Ahhh, oui. I would much prefer you _'going down.'_" France began to laugh lecherously but America launched a cheeto missile into his wide open mouth.

France hacked and coughed and America grinned. Not many countries appreciated France's appreciation.

America slumped forward to rest on his forearms, watching the professor pull up the overhead projector with the project outline. He popped a few more of the cheesy snacks into his mouth.

Boring Citizen Man handed hardcopies of the unit structure to the two halves of Italy so they could pass the papers out.

Germany dutifully left his seat to turn off the lights and the class was underway.

"Space." The professor presented, with purpose. "The final project."

There were murmurs among the countries in the darkened room.

Someone half-cursed half-screamed and a slap was heard. "PERVERT."

"Moving along…" Science Citizen droned out. He read the project outline. "During this last unit, we will be covering a few aspects of astronomy. This final report is due at the end of the unit, which coincides with the end of the term. The topics that fall under the study range of astronomy are vast and intriguing. Countries should not feel restricted to the subjects we cover in class. Research is your friend—"

"I object, sir. England's got no friends!" America shouted out and the whole class laughed.

Eyebrows, as the student council president was amply nicknamed at the academy, scowled impressively. "Shut your face, you upstart united sack of bullocks!"

America grinned back, the insult sliding right off him. No one _liked_ the United Kingdom. He put colony collars on countries he decided he wanted. He was pretty much a bushy browed thorn in everyone's side because of his goal; to be the most powerful country in the school.

Even America had been collared at one point in time, _way_ back in time. Things were different now though, and as much as popularity and power had shifted over time outside the school walls, Britain himself refused to stop living in the past when in class.

Plus, he drank tea, which was just gross.

* * *

The professor tapped his hand loudly on the overhead projector until he had their attention. He stared balefully back at his students. "Please, no talking during my lecture."

America turned back to the front. Sadly, he found that he'd demolished his snack so he popped some hubba bubba into his mouth before making a zipper motion across his lips.

"The submitted report should be, at minimum, one hundred pages…"

"Yankee doodle," America moaned out, snapping his gum in an annoying fashion.

"Quiet, please." Science Dude commanded.

"Ooh! Oh, question!" North Italy interrupted excitedly, his hand waving high in the air.

The professor reluctantly acknowledged him. "Yes?"

Veneziano made some incomprehensible hand movements and spoke extremely fast. "Can I draw pictures of space to fill up the _blank space_ that's almost positively going to be in my assignment?"

"No."

"Can we draw a _comic_ for the assignment?" Prussia piped up from his desk in the back corner. "'Caaause… I already have one done. I could just hand that in and it'd be pretty much awesome."

"No."

"GEEZE!" Prussia tossed his whole notebook out the window, and then looked horrified. The World Academy was located in the proud state of New York and its building was a few storeys high.

"Wasn't that your entry to the Manga Research club?" Germany asked off-handedly.

"Yes, yes it was." The white-haired wannabe nation raged. "Fuck."

"Now you're going to have to do a new one~!" North Italy informed him happily.

"No shit." Prussia's head met his tiny desk. He had to sit in the back at the kiddie desks with the principalities ever since he stopped being a real country.

America grinned at the antics, not really listening as he blew a gigantic pink bubble.

Japan raised his hand.

"Yes?" Citizen Man asked with a long suffering voice.

"Permission to retrieve that valuable document?" The M.R. club was Japan's after all.

The science professor had been turning the ancient overhead focus dial but it broke off in his hand. He grimaced. "No!"

"Eeh…?" The Asian country looked extremely put-out. Well, as much as his mostly expressionless face could convey. Japan frowned, slightly.

"Permission to use the bathroom?"

"Yes." Science man relented.

The short country booked it from room.

China cleared his throat and raised his own hand with a deep frown. The nation suffered from major anxiety about speaking in science class, probably because he sat behind _Russia._ America snapped his gum as he lounged. Everyone knew there was an inexplicably _bad_ atmosphere that followed Russia. Apparently it was so bad that countries like Latvia and Estonia just shrivelled up and got the shakes when coming into contact with it.

Personally, America couldn't see the atmosphere around Russia that people feared. He just knew he didn't _like_ Russia. Freaky communism aside. He smiled.

* * *

"Are you saying this report is to be completely written?" China asked from behind the bigger Russian speaking nation, who was smiling benignly and making notes.

"Yes." The educator finally offered, but the student countries started to groan in protest anyway.

Citizen Man sighed in loud frustration too. Class time was almost _over!_

America popped his gum in amusement as he watched the professor try to continue reading the outline. "Topics will be of you and your partner's choosing…"

"PARTNERS?" The class shouted back at him.

Prof. Science's eye twitched. "Yes."

France waved a rose manically in the air. "How many partners may we have?"

The rest of the nations eyed him wearily.

"One."

"Oh, boo." France pouted. "Alright, I'll take Seychelles." He grinned with renewed vitality and reached over to the seat next to him where his hand immediately crept onto the female nation's thigh.

"H-hey!" She tried to ward him off with her binder.

"Not so _fast_ there." The United Kingdom said sharply. His desk was beside America and in front of the African nation.

Suddenly the colony collar on Seychelles was attached to a chain held in Britain's grasp. "I believe I'll dictate who she's paired up with around here."

"I call Germany!" North Italy waved a white flag randomly. "He's hard working and wears glasses when he reads!"

The tall blonde in question sighed but didn't complain, since finding a partner in the form of a country was damn hard to do these days. It was so much easier back when they could just declare war and _take_ relationship status.

America's eyes scanned the room, looking for potential partners. Japan hadn't returned yet, so who did that leave him with…

He hated Cuba, Canada sucked, Britain… no. Never. France? Hell no. He scanned and skimmed, but the countries stayed the same. Lithuania was nice! He found the country sitting in front of Russia. He vaguely wondered if Lithuania was affected by the Russian atmosphere, but he seemed well enough.

The more eastern side of Europe had been mostly quiet until now, dutifully copying down notes. That is, until Belarus decided to quickly pull her whole desk to attach to Russia.

"Brother, let us partner." Her dead stare locked onto him. The tall nation with cement-coloured hair reeled back from his binder to give her a disturbed look.

She didn't seem to notice. "Partner, Partner, Partn—"

Russia's violet eyes darted back and forth as if looking for escape. "Ah…"

American immediately jumped out of his seat.

"Sit down America." Science Man called out.

"Alright!" The star spangled nation ignored the citizen, following his outstretched pointing arm like a gun with his eye. "I'll pick—"

"Hold it!" The student council President smirked evilly and the nations turned to where Eyebrows stood in the middle of the room. He held up a box with paper slips inside. "Let's decide this by draw."

A loud cry of happiness came from somewhere in the front, but no one could see who it was. "YES. I WON'T GET PICKED LAST!"

"Please, America, refrain from making a production out of this." Science Dude said.

America perked up in puzzlement, chewing his bright pink gum in one cheek. "Huh?"

"I'm Canada you stupid medical school drop-out…" The same voice muttered angrily.

The professor cocked his ear, a disturbed look on his old non-descript face. All citizens looked the same to countries. "What was that?"

"I m-mean… Fuck Yeah, I'm America!" Canada announced.

"USA. Detention!" Citizen Dude doled out, looking far happier now than before.

"Whaaaat!" America groaned. "Aw man…" He hadn't even said anything. Though that did sound like something he would say…

He scratched his head in confusion.

Science Citizen scrubbed at his indescribable but still frustrated face. "There are only a few minutes before class is dismissed. Just… draw your partners and settle on a topic for next class. Please!"

Wasting no time, the students rushed the council President for the box.

Britain snatched a paper from the box for himself. "Who do I have here…?"

"Hopefully not _me_," America muttered and shoved his hand in to pull out his own slip of paper. He held it close to his face. On it was the number fifteen.

Peering around, America noticed countries finding their partners by matching up numbers.

He waited until all the countries in the science class drew their partners and the final number of pairings had been plucked from the box.

America peered around with a suspicious look, trying to figure out who he was destined to be partners with. He walked through the aisles of desks, hiding his paper slip in the sleeve of his school sweater.

"Number fifteen!" A voice called out.

America smiled, his head whipping around to the direction of his partner's voice. The voice belonged to… of course. _Britain_. Chief exporter of eyebrow.

His glasses nearly flew off his face. "Oh…NO! No _way!_"

Eyebrows looked somewhat pathetic as he called out his number like a bad game of bingo. "Fifteen! Fifteen? Bloody hell, who the hell is number fifteen?"

"Okay. That's _not_ happening." America started backing away, imagining study sessions consisting of how to brew tea properly and pop quizzes, forced etiquette lessons, and lots of deep-seated emotional baggage.

"Who wants to trade?" He yelled at the top of his lungs. Everyone stared.

Latvia surged forward. "I-I-I-I…"

America didn't even wait for the small country's stuttered reply. He seized the offered slip.

"Oh sweet!" He grinned and jumped up on a desk to point to the sky. "I am Number ONE!" He articulated the point by punching the air on each word. "Oh man, that makes totally more sense, since I'm America!"

The small European country's shakes and stutters somehow magically stopped one the number had left his hand. "Fifteen." He breathed a sigh. "The United Kingdom is cruel and unusual, but at least he won't stretch me out."

"That sounds so gay." America replied with a scrunched up nose. "Hey, Number One! Right over heeere!" He waved but most didn't pay him any mind.

Estonia looked relieved, sitting at the desk America was currently standing on. "I'm sure you will do a wonderful job working with Russia."

On second thought, he could handle baggage. He could carry all the freaking tea bags in the world and deal with it. "I changed my mind Latvia, give me back number fifteen." America smiled winningly.

"No trade backs!" The tiny blond squeaked and darted off towards the eyebrow country.

"Wait! Whaaaat!" America whined. His hubba bubba bubble had just burst. "_Russia?_… Seriously?"

"Da." The tall country appeared at his left and America's face screwed up in outrage as Russia took a hold of his waist and placed him on the floor. "We are partners!"

"Christ! Don't touch me like that!" America cried out and whacked at the other country's hand. Russia didn't seem to mind.

"I'll trade with you, America." Belarus snuck up on him, because he totally hadn't noticed that plastic model bone from the classroom skeleton being used as a weapon against him a moment ago.

"Uhhhhhh, who do you have?"

"France." She replied, the tip of the fake bone pressing into him even harder.

"Stop poking me with your bone!"America laughed obnoxiously, and gave her a rough push away. "I'll PASS."

Unfortunately, Russia looked _thrilled._

"You are being one with Russia in a literal way. It's funny." The big-boned nation cheerily chuckled.

That face and _laugh_. God, it was maddening.

* * *

The professor came around with a clipboard and a pen. "I'm presuming you two are team one?"

"Yes." Russia confirmed, and America's lip twitched in barely concealed displeasure as the Citizen Man wrote down their names. "Topic?"

There was silence and the two countries stared at each other dumbly.

Science Dude sighed. "I'm leaving this sheet at the front of the room. Write it down before you leave. The rest of the class is gone already…"

America gripped at his hair. He could have _left class early_ if he'd gotten a normal boring country, like Canada. "Okay, no problem." He said with renewed optimism.

"I'll choose our topic! Check this out. We make a documentary about the fifty brightest stars this side of the Milky Way!" He envisioned and threw his hands up in the air like he was holding a camera. He centered his picture on Russia and nodded with enthusiasm. "I can totally see this."

"No." Russia replied and his pleasant smile didn't crack an inch, or centimetre, if the US wanted to think metrically. Which he didn't. America grinned back in full annoying force.

"I'm talking about the fifty glorious states that make up ME!" He pounded his chest in pride. "What's not to like?"

"You." Russia said. "Your idea is foolish like usual. This is a written science report, 100 pages minimum length, due on the date—"

"Okay, okay, okay!" America's face started to turn red, but he didn't let the wind blow out of his sails yet. "Okay then. We can write about _regular_ stars."

"Alright." Russia seemed to be relenting because he actually opened those violet eyes and looked down his long nose at him. He looked almost _normal._

America smiled in triumph, his right hand making a fist of victory by his side. That was him, putting the order back into the universe.

"You have detention tonight." Russia smiled back and the dirty blond country cursed. "Come to my room tomorrow night, we'll work."

The United States' priceless expression fell right of his face and crashed to the floor. Russia came curiously closer, stepping all over it. "Da?"

"Why can't we just meet at lunch?" America swallowed his gum as the other country leaned closer.

"Because," Russia replied simply, a twinkle forming deep within those eyes. "Astronomy works best at night."

* * *

**End Chapter One**


	2. Chapter 2

**Drawing Circles In The Night**

**Chapter Two**

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* * *

**

"What are you doing?"

America stretched. He was camped out on his dorm room floor which he'd outfitted with a large star spangled and striped rug. In fact, everything in his room was bigger and better. He grinned and turned up the volume on his plasma TV. He definitely needed to unwind after having detention.

"Research!" He replied.

"For _what?_" Canada asked, coming around the mountains of dirty clothes. Don't ask him how his laundry managed to pile up when they wore uniforms all week.

"My space project." America tossed a few more kernels of popcorn back and then chugged his soda.

"You're watching _E.T.!_ How does that count as research?"

"Hey, you take that back! _Entertainment Tonight_ is a perfectly acceptable form of the news." America nodded to himself. "And anyway, this is that good old Spielberg movie."

"I can _see_ that, you completely clueless…" Canada trailed off in passive aggressive mutters that America never bothered to make sense of. The other country looked pretty peeved but ended up sitting down on the bed anyway and America threw popcorn at his head in happiness.

"Hide E.T., hide!" America cried in panic. He covered his head with a pillow.

Canada stared at the television. "Oh come on, he's been stuffed in a closet!"

The popcorn went everywhere excluding America's big mouth. He grinned. "This reminds me how Tony gets in the crawl space all the time back home."

"It's inhumane to board up a pet in a small room." Canada tried to frown sternly, but it was a bit difficult with a maple sticker on his forehead. "It's why I left Kumaj-.. Kumajello? At home."

"How many times do I gotta say, aliens are not pets! Sheesh," America toed his socks off in a gross mess at the foot of the bed. "C'mon quiet, I'm trying to study."

"This isn't studying, this is movie time." Canada grumbled about him being the only country to have a television set but who paid attention to ramblings like that anyway?

They watched together, America stretched out on the floor with his mountain of snacks and Canada sitting on his bed, both sets of myopic eyes glued to the tube.

The loud honking sound of America blowing his nose signalled the end of the movie.

He stretched and a few joints popped back into place. He blinked and stretched again in the opposite direction, but San Francisco never wanted to straighten out all the way. The dirty blond rolled his head from side to side and waved his arms to bring that tingly cash flow feeling back.

"Mmm!" He rubbed one blue eye with the heel of his palm. "Research complete. Time for some shut eye!"

Canada was unceremoniously herded off the bed by America's crumb-ridden sweater being flung on his head. "How 'bout a little advice, eh? Just work with your partner. You could use the grades."

"Ugh, that sounds so gay." America shoved his tissue box away to somewhere under his desk with his barefoot. "_Partner._ Pfft, I'm paired with Russia. _Russia_. There's no way I'm spending all my free time with that freaky bastard."

"Er…"

"Relax. I just have to meet him tomorrow night. I can totally finish it, and then things'll be all gravy."

"Gravy?"

"Alllll gravy."

The long-haired blonde shook his head and put his shoes back on by the side of the door. "I'm out of here…"

"Phone home Canada, phone home!" America crowed in glee as he watched the other country leave to go back to his own dorm next door. Canada had dubbed it 'The True North Strong and Free.' America just called it Hat Land.

He waited until the door slammed shut before diving for his cordless and punching in the numbers to his house. He needed to check up on Tony after all.

* * *

The next day was anything but gravy.

"Okay, look guys, I'm gonna have to go ahead and start that petition again." America said, highly determined as he plunked his lunch tray down onto the cafeteria table.

China had his face in a book. "Don't even start."

"YUP." America place one sneakered foot onto the plastic caf chair and posed as if he were planning a strategic attack. He maneuvered his can of soda with his fork like a toy soldier on the battlefield. "Looks like my never-ending struggle to get a McDonald's in this school goes on."

The blond nation sat down and poked at the lump of charcoal that should have been a hamburger on his paper plate.

"If you just packed your own lunch then it would solve your problems." China offered as advice but didn't offer up any of the fragrant pork buns he had in his lunchbox.

"We live in _dorms_," America complained. "We have a _caf._ Shouldn't we have good food too?"

France came and sat down next to the hungry nation. His own food arrived a moment later as Ivory Coast came over and put down a silver plate in front of the blond nation.

"Merci, Côte d'Ivoire~!" He lilted happily. The African country just grumbled and went on his way.

"It's so good to have friends willing to help you out in academic endeavours, no?" France happily lifted his cutlery and dug into his beautiful steak.

America gaped. "Dammit! I hate all this colony business! Just because you guys can still order people around in school doesn't mean anything."

"Au contraire," France winked. "It means I'm second most powerful in this academy and can touch so many other countries… _with my love_ by just going to a single classroom." His eyes shone creepily and America scowled behind his glasses.

"It's _Britain's_ fault why we don't have Ronald's instead of _t-this!_" He tried to cut the meat on his own plate and his knife broke in half. "I'd even settle for White Castle. I'm not picky!"

"Sorry to rain on your parade," Britain grinned smugly as he took a seat next to China. The Asian nation glared at him from out the corner of his eye but didn't say anything.

"As student council president, I think it's important to oversee that every country gets their proper nutrients and balanced meal come lunchtime." He placed his handkerchief on his lap and Seychelles poured him some tea.

"And by oversee you mean _lord over_ right?" America pointed. "Seriously. You guys are really milking it!"

"Put milk it in? Why yes I think I will this time…" Britain gave the female African nation a look and she sighed in frustration.

America tried eating his salad, a last resort, but without several helpings of cheese and ranch dressing it just fell flat.

"Hello Allies!" Russia sat down next to America.

The once Allied Forces stared at the large nation.

The star spangled country shuddered but covered it up with a wide grin. He was dead set on starting the day off smoothly with his freaky partner. "Afternoon Russia. Can't wait to finish our report today!"

Russia didn't spare him a glance, only drew a random circle in the air. "I hope today is the day we finally stop pretending to be friends."

The tall nation then tapped his chin. "Well except you and I, China."

China shuddered. America wondered if that cryptic statement meant the two countries were actually friends, or if Russia just never planned to stop pretending with the Asian nation.

"NO." Eyebrows shouted and then laughed nervously to cover his slip up. "For the sake of being better than the Axis Powers we have to eat lunch together. It's an image thing."

Russia chuckled and started to sip his own lunchtime drink. "I assure you, they are not eating together because they want us to feel upset. They actually like each other, though I do not know why."

The five nations stared across the cafeteria at North Italy, Germany and Japan who seemed to be enjoying their lunch together in relative peace.

"Well, we all like each other, don't we?" The council president laughed.

He was met with stony silence from the four nations.

America massacred his crunchy hamburger with half a bottle of ketchup. "Just so you know, I'm going to beat you up one day."

Britain smirked, his cheeks bright red. "I'd l-like to see you try."

"_Outside_ of World Academy walls."

The Eyebrows wobbled.

France was already half through a bottle of wine by that point. "I call video rights!" He sighed happily like a lush. "Russia, please tell me how to get into Belarus' proverbial pants. All she talks about is you or cutting off my cheese and grapes. It's such a turn off!"

Russia chose that moment to chew, very, slowly.

"Have you already begun your project?" China asked, now just pretending to read his book so the other nations wouldn't bother him.

"Oui." France was visibly upset. "Showing her the beauty of French anatomy will take some time. This is going to be a very long partnership."

"I thought we were studying _astronomy_ not anatomy." The black haired nation raised an eyebrow.

America laughed unbearably loud. "That won't be us, right Russia? A night's all I need. This is gonna be a hole-in-one!"

France raised his eyebrows in a lewd expression. "_Really?_"

Texas nearly flew off his nose as he chopped the French speaking nation in the head.

America continued laughing and his hand went out to pat his science partner on the back but it waved through thin air. The land of the free had to stop and pull his hair in irritation. Russia sat in a pile of splinters on the cold tile floor.

"Maybe one of these days my chair will stop breaking!" The Russian speaking nation patted the remnants Busby's chair blissfully unaware.

The United Kingdom twitched. "Y-Yes."

**

* * *

**

America went through the boring din of his classes with a thorn rooted deep in his side.

A thorn named Russia.

He'd never _liked_ Russia. He couldn't even remember a time he had been genuinely _nice_ to Russia.

Still, that didn't mean that their last project of the term had to be awful. He made a fist full of valour as he jogged into the classroom. Model planets and spaceships were twirling from fishing wire off the ceiling. It was like a mobile hanging overtop a cradle for overworked students.

"Hey, Hey." Prussia laughed in his kiddie chair as America walked by. "Look at the size of URANUS."

"Oh come on!" The United States defended. "Shut up… Pluto!"

"P-Pluto?" Prussia smirked. "What kind of lame comeback is that?"

The blonde swayed back and forth on his heels, innocent expression coming over his face like rays of sweet, sweet sunshine. "Weeell, Pluto isn't a planet anymore, and you're not a country anymore soooo…"

"You take that back!" The white haired ex-nation rocked angrily in his too-small desk.

"Prussia?" The blonde grinned and talked aloud to himself. "Is that another spelling of Russia?"

"H-Hey!" Prussia raged.

America skirted around the tiny chick that had flown out of the ex-country's hair to attack him.

"Yo Prof," He greeted.

"Seating change." Science Man announced. "Please be seated next to your project partner."

America wanted to scream his national anthem. His usual seat was stolen by Sweden, so he bee-lined back to where Russia sat. Strange enough the seats were all free.

"Hey again partner." America grinned tightly and wiped the seat from thumbtacks that he just knew Russia had placed there.

Russia smiled back just as tight and then his chair broke apart.

"Goddammit!" Eyebrows cried from the other side of the room.

This report was going to be awful. Truly and totally. Somehow he knew it was going to end with a bang.

**

* * *

**

"You _do_ know I plan to get our report finished tonight, right?" America said rapidly under his breath. "I mean, it _is_ Friday night and I'm all for procrastination, but think of the rewards! We'll never have to see each other again outside of lunch, math, this class, and world meetings…"

"In Russian classes we do not have seat changes." Russia explained unnecessarily and America flopped against his desk in a sudden bout of exasperation. The class droned on as their professor read aloud some articles.

"There's only one of you, Russia –thank god! You can't do a seat change with empty space!"

Russia smirked underneath his scarf, but the younger nation saw it. "Touchy. However, I attend all classes, not just my own."

America looked down his nose and over the rim of his glasses. "What do you mean _all?_"

Russia dutifully wrote down some notes and ignored his partner. America tapped his foot in annoyance. There wasn't anything worse than not being able to garner attention when he wanted it.

"Hellooooo," He said as loudly as he dared and actually reached out to poke Russia.

Before his finger connected, the Russian speaking nation looked at him with those creepily docile purple eyes.

"Russia is everywhere." He whispered.

The United States shuddered. "R-Right." He scowled. "You're telling me you find the time to go to all the classes at this school? Man, you have no life."

"I have a plan that has no bearing on our relations…yet." Russia smiled indulgently to himself and the younger nation backed his chair away a bit.

"Wait. How do you even get into the _Asian _classes? I mean, dude, you're about as tall as a sunflower in a field of daisies."

Russia blinked. "You called me a sunflower."

Oh sure, of course the other country had to pick out the gayest part of he'd said. That wasn't the message he'd been going after at all. America blushed in irritation.

"I _mean_ you stick out like a sore thumb!" He clucked his tongue and then added as an afterthought, "Loser."

Russia tilted his head as if he was studying him. "To infiltrate the Asian class is not so difficult. I just dress up in my panda costume. No one asks one question! It works well."

"Ergh." America smiled widely to cover up his annoyance, but it was impossible to hide. "You are so weird."

**

* * *

**

The United States of America whistled as he walked down the hallway, several feet in front of his science partner, even though they were going to the same place.

Most of the other student body parted way for them like they were celebrities. Or it could have been Russia radiating his weird aura again.

He was _not_ looking forward to this, America thought idly as they passed the cafeteria and lockers and were heading down the hallway to the dorms. First of all, he'd never bothered to study in another nation's dormitory before. He never bothered to study _period!_ But this report was worth quite a few marks and the sooner it was over the better and all that jazz…

Russia hummed a creepy childish tune behind him, so America whistled louder.

He didn't understand how Russia could go to so many classes involving all the other continents. It wasn't something _mandatory._ Hell, no one liked to squash themselves in with other countries for as long as _one_ class period! Culture shock was a horrible, horrible thing.

They reached the dorms and America blindly soldiered on towards the European quarters, which looked older and more elaborately decorated than his own North American side.

Russia still trailed behind him, so it was up to the US to figure out which dorm was his. It wasn't difficult. At the end of the hall there was a flickering overhead light that only lit up the area for a few seconds at a time.

The atmosphere was gloomy and dark and isolated compared to the rest of the brightly lit hall, but in contrast, a lone golden sunflower was pinned to the door.

And Bingo was his name-o.

Russia came up behind him and the blonde watched as the key turned in the lock.

"Great." The English speaking nation said in a very contradictory tone. "This is a one-night thing, remember!"

The larger nation turned to him and opened the door.

Russia went in and flicked on his light, toeing off his shoes by the door. For some reason America couldn't find himself able to take the step forward into what he still considered enemy territory. He looked down. The carpet under his feet was a little threadbare.

"Come in." Russia said amicably.

There were hardly any personal effects in Russia's school housing. No photos or posters or even a lingering sock. It was barren like space itself, except even space had a billion points of light to make it interesting. Here there was only a small lamp and a bed and a desk and a chair. And Russia.

America could see that he was sitting on his desk which was as bare as the room, save for a few notebooks that he'd just taken out of his bag. Still, the blonde didn't cross the threshold.

"Are you more comfortable out there?" Russia chuckled from inside. "This is the first time I haven't seen you barge in."

"Knock it off!" America laughed back, they always fought in this way, and he toed the side of the door. "I'm coming."

Russia didn't seem to mind or care as he opened a book and clicked his pen. "So what are your opinions on the topic of blackholes? Should we include a page or two?"

"Well!" The United States looked up and grinned triumphantly. "Black holes are places in the universe where _God is dividing by zero_!"

Russia stared.

"It says so right in the book." America explained. "The _good book_." He laughed at his own joke.

"Your American humour lacks intellect." Russia concluded.

"Look, _I'm_ the superpower behind this report so we'll be fine if you just follow my lead!"

"No, no, no," Russia refused, cheerfully. His eyes began to shine."_I_ will write a report that will send all other countries running to me in celebration of the knowledge I gave to them."

America had mentally replaced all of Russia's singulars to plurals. "Don't you mean running _away_ in fear? Look man, I don't want to get into this again. We're writing a report that can double as my acceptance speech for the Nobel Peace Prize."

Russia laughed outright then. "Are we?"

"Cause everything I _do_ makes HISTORY."

"I already have numerous candidates for that prestigious award. We will wipe the floor with your imperialist pig skin."

Russia was outright _tittering_ by that point making America smile wider and laugh louder to cover the sound.

"Oh, so now you wanna take a go on the football field?"

"What?"

"Let's just get this straight. I'm not afraid of you! Hah. Hahhahaha!" The country stood proudly on the threshold of the dorm room, hands on hips and heroics practically spewing from his mouth. "Maybe you think you've got every class under your foot, but I'm making this my turf."

America took one big leap into the small dormitory and the temperature seemed to drop a couple billion degrees.

Russia simply pushed away from his desk and rested a hand on his chin. "What do you think you're doing?"

"What the hell, man!" America shivered, with democratic purpose. "Why're you blasting the A/C?"

"A/C?" Russia laughed. "Please, you are in Russia's territory now. What you're feeling is the cold sting of General Winter's fingertip."

"Pffft," America took a few more leaps and landed on the other nation's bed. "And here _in New York_, it's called air conditioning."

The door behind him shut out of its own accord and America blinked owlishly in surprise behind his glasses. Russia just turned back to his notebook.

"Whatever, space case." America eyed the door with apprehension, wondering idly if it was a ghost. "L-Let's just get this party started." He crossed his legs underneath him on the bed. It seriously felt as hard as a rock.

"Da," Russia took out a bottle from underneath his desk. "One finger or two?"

Blood rushed to his cheeks and America slapped his forehead. He laughed obnoxiously. "Oh you're good. Trying to psych me out, huh? We're here to work, Russia!" He tapped his index finger on his flag-printed notebook he pulled out of his book bag. "We'll work _together_. And when that's over, we can go back to our cool indifference and veiled insults!"

"Oh." Russia angled his head just a little bit away and then smiled more genuinely. "I wasn't aware my insults were veiled."

"OKAY, you know what?" America said as he jumped up from the barren bed mattress and leapt his way into Russia's personal space. The other country did not look very threatened, but wheeled in his chair so he was more open. America took another step closer and oh-so-slowly pushed his glasses up, with his middle finger.

"I'm gonna _save_ you, Russia."

"From… what?" Russia smirked and America pulled the scarf from around his mouth so he could see it clearly.

"I don't know." America said. "I just will."

The other nation stared at him for a long moment, those violet eyes piercing deep. For a second America thought he was going to reply with another one of those inane little questions or block him out with a wall of false cheer, but what he got was completely different.

Russia tilted his head, that ashy blond hair falling into his eyes. "Perhaps the only one I need saving from is you."

**

* * *

**

**End Chapter Two**


	3. Chapter 3

**Drawing Circles In The Night**

**Chapter Three**

**

* * *

**

"Alright-gates. So, I'm up to page ninety-eight! I'm super proud of page twenty, which totally focuses on how the rising gas prices are due to the fact that we're not processing stars fast enough! Since they're made of gas 'n all-gates."

Russia just hummed to himself, twirling his pen against his paper.

America wasn't beat yet, and pounded his fist at a faster past on the bedspread. He was cocooned in the Russian blankets. He'd _tried_ to change the A/C setting and yet it was still cold.

"Page thirty-two deals with how many jobs we can create by opening up the constellation Saggitarius for business!" The younger nation wrote down a few more paragraphs at top speed with his light up rocket pen.

"Okay, so that's done-gates. Now to tackle the idea of getting a chain of_ Starbucks_ up there…"

Russia put down his writing utensil and America could feel those eyes on him, but that didn't discourage him any. His hand rushed across the last two pages at mach 5, smoke starting to rise from the pages.

"-Gates, gates, gates, gates!" The verbal tick tumbled out of his mouth just as fast.

Russia got up and slapped him in the face.

"What the hell?" The United States held his cheek and glared, his Bill Gates tick removed. He prodded one of his teeth with the tip of his tongue. "Oh just great. You just pushed back Microsoft. Mac is gonna have a field day, you know!"

His bottom lip was stinging, and he almost boiled over at the _nerve_ of Russia's attitude. He tongued his stinging lip too, tasting something that was almost like competitive edge. He licked his lip again, staring out from under his gold fringe at Russia. Yep, that was definitely the taste of _competition._

The taller nation didn't seem to bother with America's scrutiny. He picked up the patriotic notebook the young country had been finishing their project in and flipped through the pages slowly.

"What is this foolish piece of writing?" Russia questioned in almost a bored tone, like he'd been expecting it. He paused at what looked like page sixty-nine. "This is worse than that time I had a dream I lived in a beautiful sunny land of sunflowers and then woke up to see it was not true."

The United States just stared. "…Okay, I'm gonna kick your ass now."

"No." Russia said simply and put the notebook in his garbage bin.

"Hey! HEY!" America shouted. He scrambled off the bed and then planted his palms on Russia's back with a loud smack. Russia went toppling over in a heap of scarf.

America's teeth chattered but he shook it off. He'd need that winter accessory too if his room was this cold. "You can't just _do_ stuff like that. In fact, I'm not gonna let you do it, for your own good!"

He stood his ground with a determined frown. Russia was finally paying perfect attention to him.

The Russian speaking nation dusted his plaid-covered knees off but stayed seated on the floor. "Is that the way you treat all your partners?" He asked blandly.

The United States of America smiled darkly. "Only if they throw my hard work in the trash."

"Trash is trash," Russia said just as dangerously, still a serene expression on his face.

America bent down and grabbed the front of Russia's academy issued sweater. The material was cool and felt thin in his grasp. Those purple eyes climbed up and down him and America scowled. Suddenly, the Russian speaking nation grabbed him by the hips and pulled him forward.

America went down.

He breathed deeply, his nose crushed against Russia's neck. He immediately shot back, his blood racing fast through his veins. Being in Russia's _lap_ could have been intimidating, but it _wasn't._ Because he was the United States.

"We're using my report!" He announced loudly, and flipped his hair out of his eyes. Texas sat on his nose askew but he didn't dare let go of Russia's stupid sweater.

"If starting a fight is part of your plan to be my hero," Russia said, those eyes looking into his own, "It's not working."

"I.." America was stumped for a moment. "I don't want to be your _hero._" Though that did sound like something he would say. But not to _Russia!_

A swirl of emotions overtook America's stomach and it made a funny noise. He groaned and let go of his hold on the other nation's sweater. He held hand up into Russia's confused face.

"STOP! Hubble time."

Russia blinked and actually tapped the shorter nation on the head. "Has your weight finally collapsed what was left of your brain…?

America grimaced and managed a cocky smile back. "You know what that means?" He said patting his stomach.

"Approximately thirteen point eight billion years." Russia looked intrigued. "The value of Hubble time in the standard cosmological model."

America stared at him with dull eyes through his smudged glasses. He shook his head to rid himself from that sheer mind-numbing dubious aura of Russia's which had tried to penetrate his brain. Or maybe it was him warding off learning something; at this point it wasn't very important.

"I need to get some _dinner_. You've had me hauled up here forever," America explained purposely, so it didn't seem like he'd had the choice to leave. It totally didn't look like he was spending his Friday night in Russia's dorm not getting any work done on his bed and then _in his lap_.

The United States nearly blew a geyser. "When are you gonna feed me?"

"Are you hungry?" Russia patted him on the head like he was a dog and America shook his hand off angrily.

"I saw you gorging yourself on your snacks just a few hours ago." Russia always looked like he was so pleased with himself for acting mild-mannered, but America knew better. He knew he had to be _suspicious_ of him. There was no _truce_ between them. There wasn't ever going to be. It was only a damned assignment that he was going to end up doing by himself i_again_/i at the rate things were going.

"Fast food, man. Dinner." America suggested in a slow and condescending voice. He grinned and chuckled, blue eyes still locked intensely on Russia. "Okay then. _We're going out_."

"You make our partnership sound very homosexual." Russia looked unperturbed. "I have food here. This will be fast."

America choked on his own indignation.

"I only need one minute, watch." Russia instructed.

The young country did watch with horror-filled fascination as the other country did more action than he had all night by rolling up his sleeves. He reached into his cabinet, and pulled out a loaf of bread. Russia then walked over to the desk and took a bite of the baked good over the wastepaper basket, making sure no crumbs flaked off onto his work. The remnants fell over America's notebook and his amazing one hundred page report.

The tall country actually _chewed_. America watched every jaw and cheek movement on Russia's face with offensive clarity. Each second that ticked by made America's mouth go drier and drier until—

"There." Russia pointed to the clock. "I'm finished."

"Do _not _tell me that was your dinner."

But Russia was already wrapping up the rest of the loaf in some paper and putting it back into the cupboard.

He got his hero on. And his coat.

* * *

"So, tell me again the benefits of having a McDonald's on the moon."

"Har Har," The United States managed to intone around his burger. He'd made his nightly run to his favourite restaurant a few blocks away from campus and surprisingly Russia had come along.

America shrugged, stuffing another cheeseburger into his mouth from his take-away bag as they walked back down the street. He finally could see the campus gate up ahead.

"Shut up Russia! I was there first." He stuck out his tongue and the other nation turned up his big nose a little. It made America grin even wider. "One day I'm going to have moon colonies following me around this place." He tapped the iron bars of the large gate of World Academy.

The stars were out and the moon hung brightly overhead on the dark path from the street to the inner campus. It was a clear trail, but uneven because of some _genius'_ idea to put in cobblestone. They walked along, coming up to the large soccer field.

America's eyes were to the sky as he picked out constellations out of mere curiosity. It'd been years since he properly paid attention to the stars and the moon. He remembered watching those heavenly bodies and willing himself to get there before the nation standing right next to him.

He squint one eye and held his finger up, drawing circles in the night around the brightest stars.

Of course, when he paid attention to one thing, everything _else_ went right out the window.

He walked straight into Russia's back.

The taller nation just let out a small 'oomph' and said nothing else, still staring out at the dark empty soccer field.

America took a deep breath.

He took another.

Russia smelled like _fries._

There was nothing more mouth watering than the smell of hot, salty, _amazing_ fries just waiting to be ravaged. It was the type of feeling that he knew stemmed from indulgence. The type of feeling that he knew was bad for him but it was promising a taste so perfect that it was sometimes all he needed.

The thought that he could be feeling the effects of that crazy Russian atmosphere crossed his mind. For some strange reason his feet were rooted to the spot.

"Russia! Move to the side, _I'm_ the born leader here!" He patted his chest proudly. "If I let you lead we'd be going around in _circles_."

"The whole world does not revolve around you." Russia pointed out as he turned around, emphasizing this by poking America in the forehead. "If you want me to pay attention to you, try something different."

"I-…" America's eyebrows lowered and his lips puckered in annoyance. "I don't want your attention."

Russia reached out with those long pale fingers and touched him, right below his ribs, and America let out a breath he hadn't even realized he'd been holding in.

"What do you want?" His voice was like cotton candy spun onto a steel pipe. It sounded sweet but once you got down deep there was a cold hard bite to it. America's hand immediately gripped at Russia's forearm, but he didn't push it away.

Russia looked utterly amused, as if he was thinking about something crazy. America swore that was a pretty common thing.

"Do you want to be one with me?"

Russia's touch on his side became firm and his own grip tightened in reply.

"Not if you were the last country on Earth." America grinned viciously, sinking his nails into that thin sweater-clad arm.

They stared at each other with considering looks. America didn't really want to dwell on what he was considering, or what Russia was considering.

Or why Russia was leaning down like that, and why his lips tingled when their cool night breath met just centimetres – no, _inches_ – away. America gasped and the point of his nose brushed against Russia's upper lip.

It was warm.

Suddenly his ears felt like they were burning and his fingertips had frostbite.

A crashing sound filled the air and blindingly white light flashed on above them. Their grips on each other tightened so fast and hard that it was painful. America's eyes went as wide as saucers behind his glasses. His face was on fire, he was sure it was hypothermia and definitely _not_ a blush.

"I-It's… It's a-a UFO!" America yelled out. "Oh my God, COOL."

"No," Russia shielded his eyes against the brightness. "That is curfew."

The two nations cursed in tandem.

They ran across the soccer field, fast food bags in hand. The soccer field's stadium lights crashed on one by one in megawatt bolts of white light, signalling them as curfew fell into effect.

**

* * *

**

**End Chapter Three**


	4. Chapter 4

**Drawing Circles In The Night**

**Chapter Four**

**

* * *

**

"Phew, that was close…"

They shut the school doors behind them and watched the heavy fire-regulation slabs of metal. A few moments later the padlocks slowly cranked into place. Yep, World Academy was definitely tight on security.

A long time ago, way before the USA had started attending the school, nations had had a lot more freedom in their comings and goings. But as wars passed and alliances built up and broke away, so did the rules.

Nations were allowed to go where they pleased during normal hours, but being out after curfew was a big no-no. He and Canada had almost gotten locked out once. The more northern American country had gotten caught up in showing him some pretty cool and _useful_ plants that he'd been growing in the campus greenhouse.

Now that he thought about it, he didn't really remember much about that night. Except the colours.

The United States shrugged and sighed, leaning his back on the doors. He smoothed his fingers through his dishevelled golden hair.

Russia was staring at him.

Suddenly there was a weird squirming feeling in his stomach. The tip of his nose twitched.

"Okay look man…" America's eyes darted left and right in an edgy movement. "I don't _like_ you, got it?"

Russia looked a bit surprised. "I _know_ that. You've made it very clear." He smiled and his eyes were closed in a blissfully unaware expression.

Russia plodded forward a little.

The younger nation smiled too wide, the corners of his mouth tight with a disturbed twitch.

_BANG!_

America nearly jumped out of his cowboy boots as the front doors rocked and shuddered behind him.

"What the hell?" He whipped around.

"Let us in!" Prussia banged on the door again.

So _that_ was what that crazy Russia had been smiling at.

"Hey Pluto." America grinned. "It's a great night for some astronomy, isn't it?"

A freaky moaning that sounded like a ghoul or goblin came from the second door and America jumped back, stepping on Russia's feet and bumping his back into him. The taller nation reached up and steadied the blonde. America bit his lip, justifying Russia's little action as necessary since _ghosts_ where about.

France's face wiggled into view, the shadows casting his features into ugliness. "États-Unis, Russie, let us in!"

America let out a laugh and then stage-whispered, "Russia, that ghost is speaking in a language I don't understand!"

"Be happy," Russia told him with a quiet cheerfulness. "If you start to understand ghosts, it means you've died." He looked down at the bespectacled nation, and the United States was very, _very_ aware of the large hands gently holding his shoulders.

Russia's mouth quirked up at the side. "You're not dead yet."

"Yeah, over your dead body." America jeered and pulled away.

"Like Romeo and Juliet." Russia replied, a tinge of silly happiness flitting through his words. The younger nation couldn't figure out if that tone meant he was genuinely making parallels or being creepy on purpose. Probably both.

"Did my heart love till now?" The Russian speaking nation wondered aloud, his voice lilting over the quote.

Russia was from a parallel universe alright. He shuddered.

"Pleeease," Spain chimed in from the other side of the locked doors. "Help us out!"

The trio of annoying European countries groaned and banged on the doors. "Helllpp!"

"Now why would all three of you guys be out past curfew?" America asked innocently while crunching into his apple pie. He balled up the now-empty McDonald's bag and tossed it at the window. It bounced off the dismayed faces there.

The bird on Prussia's head cheeped angrily.

"What were you all _doing?_" America asked with scrutinizing eyes.

"What do you think?" France winked. "I would love to hear your… _fantasies_ about it."

Britain popped out from behind the three, bringing up the eyebrow quota for the night.

"Bloody hell. Just open the lock with your super strength and never you mind about the going-ons of the _big boys_ in this school." His face held a beautifully crafted uppity smirk. "It's none of your beeswax anyway, United States."

America growled low in his throat. "_Big_ boys…?"

"You're not part of the student council or the kink club, so it has nothing to do with you." Spain explained and the other Europeans stared at him in outrage.

"Shut him _up!_" Eyebrows screamed and both Prussia and France slapped hands over their brunette friend's mouth.

"I'm not embarrassed," Russia finally inputted. "But your club of adult nature does not interest me much."

Prussia made a face. "We're not interested in seeing your two _full moons_ either!" He spared America a longer look. "And in your case, it's a _very_ full moon. Kesesese…"

"Astronomical fat jokes?" The United States asked unhelpfully, his hand surreptitiously tugging on the tiny golden cross around his neck. "Come on!"

The countries on the other side of the doors snickered loudly. "_Ass_-tronomical…!" Spain snorted in glee.

The golden blond nation threw up his hands in exasperation even as he tried to look like he wasn't twisting around to see his own butt. Turned out that was a really hard thing to do. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Russia shake off whatever happy stupor that had been causing him to stare off into space.

The Russian speaking nation shrugged and took out his pipe – where the hell had he been hiding that thing? – France, Spain, Prussia and Britain all stared in horror as he jammed it through the door handles.

"The moon is not full tonight," Russia said cheerfully tapping on the glass like the countries were cute animals at a pet store. "But the temperature is supposed to be a beautiful -15˚C soon." He laughed happily as the other Europeans began banging on the door anew.

"Fsem spokoinai nochee!" He wished them good night and turned to continue towards the dormitories. America followed him in disbelief and also little bit of awe.

"America!" Britain called out, but the two science partners were already halfway down the dark hall. "Don't leave me out here with these cretins!"

Britain rattled the handle while trying to fight off the angry trio with his loafer-clad foot. It was well and truly locked.

"Americaaaahhh!"

**

* * *

**

"You can be kinda a bastard, you know that?" America said as they re-entered the dorms.

"I was just playing with them. If it gets too cold for their weak bodies to handle, removing their clothes and sharing body heat is a method I'm sure they would be more than happy to employ." Russia smiled down at him and the younger nation shifted his glasses, trying to distract from the fact his cheeks had flushed.

"Don't tell me you were planning to break off the locks."

"No." America smirked widely, relishing in the look on those perverted countries' faces. But then he was agreeing with _Russia._

He quickly rethought his satisfaction and frowned. "Buuut, it's the principal of the thing. A hero should have saved them!"

"And good Samaritans worth saving are _usually_ locked out past curfew because of their 'Big Boy' extracurricular activities, right?" Russia raised his eyebrows and bit his lip, only just containing his delight.

America could swear he was actually cracking a joke, _with sarcasm_ – and that was just plain strange. He shook his head and let out a short breathy laugh at the madness.

They walked down the dormitory halls in relative comfort. Most countries were either studying or hanging out in their rooms after curfew, but it was a Friday. That meant the whole world was up to no good.

America ran a hand through his hair. "Can't be a hero to everyone I guess." He chuckled. "That's what God is for!"

Beside him, the other country sounded suspiciously like he was trying to smother some kolkolkols. America elbowed him in the side.

"Well, it's a good thing you're _my_ hero tonight." Russia said simply, touching the place where the elbow had gotten him.

America stopped walking and Russia stopped with him.

The younger nation took a few more steps and Russia did the same.

He stopped.

Russia did too.

America bit the side of his lip to stop from smiling at the sheer insanity. "I'm not going back to your icebox!" He spoke very loudly on purpose so Russia could understand without him having to specifically say what he wanted. He grabbed the older nation's arm to steer him into the North American dorm direction.

"I _told_ you this was gonna be a one night thing." America continued with a determined slant of his eyes. A roguish grin overcame his features as Russia came along willingly.

"And the night continues." Russia spoke lowly, as if it meant something.

**

* * *

**

America unlocked his door and then hunkered down as if he were about to enter a wild jungle. Russia studied him with blatant curiosity as the golden blonde stuck out his foot and kicked out. He then slashed his arm and a pile of clothes cluttered to the ground, almost smothering the young nation.

Russia reached out and flicked the light.

"Aw man," America griped, peeling off an old t-shirt from his head. "You took the fun out of it."

He pile-drived his way through a stack of empty soda cans and pulled his industrial strength vacuum cleaner out from under his head.

"Are you cleaning for me?" Russia asked, amused and taking in the very American décor.

"Nope," America made a face. He switched on the vacuum to its most powerful setting and then lifted it to vacuum the… wall.

He silently mouthed the numbers, "Three…Two… One…"

Loud banging came from his neighbour and Russia jumped in surprise.

"TURN THAT DAMNED THING OFF YOU FATASS!" Cuba pounded on the wall and screamed.

The United States laughed heartily and continued to vacuum.

Russia sweatdropped. He took a seat on the bed and a brilliant smile of indulgence overcame his face. "This is so comfortable. Ahhh~" He sighed with a large sunshiny grin. "Ahhhh~~"

They heard the cigar-smoking nation open and shut his door with a bang. America turned off his neighbourly-annoyance machine.

He waited exactly ten seconds before switching walls and starting up the appliance again. Angry cries came from Canada's room.

"HAHAHA." The bespectacled nation wiped a happy tear from the corner of his eye and then tossed the vacuum away into the recesses of his clothing pile. "That cheers me up, every _damn_ time. Russia," He pointed with renewed Hollywood vigour, "Off my bed. That's where _I_ work."

Russia got up with a little regret at leaving the downy bed written on his face. He immediately went to the desk where action figures of all types littered the surface.

"Since you let me write our whole report while suffering from blasting A/C and then _TOSSED_ it…" America turned on his television with a small click and sighed in happiness.

"You get to do the same thing! Write us our report! Then I'll check it over and if it's not good enough, I'll throw it out!" He smacked the remote control into his palm a few times for emphasis. "On this team we only go for gold Russia!"

"I'll continue where I left off then," Russia agreed, pulling out his notebook from before from who knows where. The United States watched him out of the corner of his eye, the sliver that Texas didn't cover. It was a little bit blurry, but he saw the older nation actually dive into work without much of a fuss.

He raised an eyebrow and nodded in approval, liberty and freedom always won in the end. America shrugged and pulled up MTV.

**

* * *

**

A loud yawn filled the dorm room.

America stretched and licked the inside of his mouth to try and get that cotton feeling out. He blinked blearily. The TV was still on but the volume was much lower than he remembered it had been.

A creepy humming sound wafted into his ear. It sounded like a lullaby.

He sat up abruptly, the crick in his back from the other night flaring up once more. "What the…"

America slowly, oh-so-slowly, turned his head.

Russia was smiling, seated next to the bed on the desk chair with his socked feet up on the mattress and his hand in a bowl of popcorn.

"…"

They stared at each other.

Russia opened his mouth.

America's lip twitched. "Don't… say… a word."

Russia popped a piece of popcorn in and then made a zipping motion overtop his lips. A wide close-lipped smile stretched his cheeks up and he crunched the lone kernel. The Russian speaking nation looked positively delighted.

Texas was sliding down America's nose but he couldn't even drag a finger up to fix it. "Were you…" He paused, his eyes darting around wildly. "Were you watching me _sleep?_"

Russia just closed his eyes and happily chewed until the tiny morsel of food was gone. "With this much junk food in your room, it is now very obvious to me why you are harassed for your substantial weight."

"Gfff-" America choked on some unintelligible word and his face turned an unattractive colour. His jaw worked up and down in a funny dance with no sound. No way were the thoughts that had been conjured in his brain going to squeeze their way past his mind to mouth barrier.

He squint his eye and pursed his lips. "What _time_ is it?"

"Approximately two in the morning." America let out a silent relieved breath, just a few hours. "I was watching your television." Russia finally explained. "But letting you make that goldfish face was more interesting."

"UGH, no wonder you have no friends!" America flopped onto his back and half-glared upside at the other nation. "Didn't anyone ever tell you it was rude to stare?"

"Most times when I'm staring…" Russia leaned forward and dropped a few kernels of popcorn over the younger blonde's head, as if he was feeding fish. America's mouth automatically opened and mowed through the food.

"…It's at people's backs." Russia finished and dusted his hand off on America's blanket.

The last crunch America took was strangely tasteless as he watched Russia wheel back to the desk.

"Hey…" He rolled over on the mattress and righted his glasses. Russia cut a pretty funny figure, being so large and trying to use the tiny clean space on the corner of the cluttered desk.

"Why do you spy on all the other countries anyway?" The young nation stuffed a pillow under his chin to prop himself up. "You'd think you would have something better to do! Don't you have some great Russian pastimes you could be freezing your nuts off with?"

"If by 'spy' you mean 'attend classes,'" Russia tapped his chin with his pen. "The reason is simple. Russia must collect and understand all the culture and history of the countries he will become one with."

"That ain't _never_ going to work." America announced loudly and tossed his pillow at Russia's head.

The older nation pulled the fluffy pillow away from his face and peeked out from its edge, tiny creases at the sides of his eyes.

"Your double negative let's me introduce the idea that with all my knowledge I might one day be a teacher at World Academy."

America was stumped. "Wait, what?"

If Russia could sparkle like France, he probably would have right at that moment. "And when that day comes, I'll combine all countries together into the same classroom and then there will only be one— Russian class."

He tilted his head, a slightly longer piece of hair falling across his cheek. "I might even teach you something, United States."

* * *

**End Chapter Four**


End file.
